


wanting

by skrsgards



Series: Bill Skargård Works [6]
Category: Bill Skarsgard - Fandom
Genre: Choking, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Light Bondage, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skrsgards/pseuds/skrsgards
Summary: in which you let him take his frustrations out on you





	wanting

He was on edge.

Muscles tight, jaw set, hands sliding up and down his thighs as he attempted to calm himself for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Normally, he was good at keeping his emotions in check. He stayed composed, pulled together, taking everything with grace. 

But not this time. Oh no, he was far from keeping it together. In fact, he felt like a spool of thread coming unravelled. The only thing, or rather, only person, that could put him back together again, was you. 

And that was precisely why he was on his way home that very moment. 

It was raining outside, pounding angrily against the roof of the car he was currently enclosed in. It matched his mood. He normally made small talk with his driver, but not tonight. He was too wound up, and didn’t want to make a fool of himself by being short with the man. Then he’d end up having to apologize later on for being a grade a jerk. 

So, he kept his mouth shut, opening it only to utter the words “thank you” when he was dropped off at his doorstep. He braved the relentless rain, ducking his head as he rushed for the door, letting himself in. 

The smell of fall scented candles and food greeted him the moment he stepped inside. The comforting warmth of home settled in his bones, and he relaxed only slightly, though there was still that overwhelming frustration swirling within him like the storm clouds that currently filled the sky. 

He could hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his coat, hanging it on the coat tree to dry before padding across the hall in sock clad feet. The sight he was met with only deepened his need to relieve his tensions. You were only dressed in one of his shirts, your legs on full display. And when you bent over to open a cabinet, he got an eyeful of your panty clad ass. But nonetheless, he resisted the urge to approach you and slam you against the nearest counter.

Instead, he leaned against the archway leading into the kitchen, watching you as you flitted about, putting the finishing touches on the dinner you’d carefully prepared. He’d called you earlier in the day, telling you what a miserable time he was having, and you’d taken compassion on him and decided to have a nice dinner ready when he came home, knowing some hearty food would help a little. 

When you turned to place the pot of soup on the table, you found Bill watching you, and you beamed at him. “You’re right on time,” you mused, beaming at him. 

“I see that,” he replied, lips tugging into a soft smile. 

“I made soup.”

So, he sauntered over to the table, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. You came to stand beside him, grabbing the bowl you’d set out and moving to ladle some soup into it. 

At such close proximity, Bill could reach out and touch your leg. So that’s what he did, hand coming out to brush over the back of your thigh. Featherlight, hardly enough to cause anything. But you noticed, and you bent your knee, pulling your leg away slightly. 

Bill persisted, this time grasping your thigh in his large hand, sliding towards the inside of your leg. You froze up a little, no match for the affect he had on you. Even so, you tried brushing him off. “Bill,” you cautioned.

Suddenly, he was yanking you into his lap, and you gasped sharply, caught off guard. “I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day and I need you,” he gritted out. Really, you were the only thing that had gotten him through the day. The thought of coming home to you was a comforting one at that. 

“The food is going to get cold,” you feebly tried to reason. 

He grabbed your face. “That’s not what I’m hungry for.”

Well, shit. Before you could react, he was leaning forward to catch your bottom lip between your teeth. “Please, I gotta be inside you.” 

And how could you ever say no? Especially when he uttered his next words. “Plus you walk around me in nothing but my shirt and a those little panties. How do you expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

The way he was looking at you had your heart quickening in your chest and a shudder running through you. You were putty in his hands. Didn’t matter when or where, if he wanted you, you’d let him have you, no questions asked. 

“Daddy…” you breathed, at a loss for words already, hips involuntarily grinding down against his.

“Get up.” To the point, demanding to be obeyed. Silently, you stood, watching as he followed, towering over you. Without warning, he took ahold of your upper arm, roughly pulling you over to the island that stood in the middle of the kitchen, lifting you in one swift movement and placing you atop the cool marble.

“You,” he began through his teeth, already ripping your underwear down your legs, “are going to be a good fucking girl and do as I say. Do you understand?”

He already had you feeling small. It made your heart sing. “Yes sir.”

“Tell me…” he continued, nimble fingers sliding along your inner thigh. “I know getting pushed around makes you wet. Are you wet for me yet, darling?”

You couldn’t muster any words, for you already knew the shameful truth. He could throw a mere look in your direction and your underwear would be soaked through. And even as you tried to look away in that moment, Bill held your face, and then his fingers slid over your center. 

A shrewd smile creeped into his face when he found his suspicions to be true. “Oh,” he said, “you filthy little girl. You’re practically soaked.” At his words, an involuntary squeak sounded from your throat. He was fucking killing you.

“What’s that? Do you want Daddy to fuck you on the counter?”

“Mhm,” was all you could force out.

“What kind of answer is that? We use our words, remember?”

“I want you to fuck me on the counter. Please.”

“See? All you had to do was ask.”

You watched silently as his hands moved to unbuckle the thick black belt around his waist. The clink of the metal had you growing wetter, the sound only insinuating what was to come. But as he unzipped his pants, he made no move to remove them. 

Instead, he shoved your legs apart, one hand coming up to the back of your neck while the other snaked down between your legs. He pulled you in for a bruising kiss, all while shoving two fingers into you.

You jerked against him at the unexpected intrusion, breaking the kiss in order to let out a strangled gasp. “Gotta open up this pretty little pussy.” Bill pressed his forehead to your own, hand still on the back of your neck as he began finger fucking you, not even bothering to start slow. You were forced to keep eye contact with him, and it was all so intense that your eyes began to water. 

The sound of your wetness was unmistakable, making things all the more erotic. Bill watched you lose control of yourself beneath him, your body trembling as those impossibly long fingers brushed relentlessly against the wall of nerves inside of you. 

Just the sight of you in this state had him painfully hard, and he was quickly losing interest in using his fingers. So, all too soon, he removed himself from you, ignoring your protest as he yanked you from the island, gasping your wrist tightly and leading you out of the room. 

You were taken to the bedroom, where you were promptly tossed onto the bed as Bill seamlessly climbed on top of you. “Been waiting for this all day,” he gritted, making quick work of maneuvering himself out of his pants, followed by his shirt. “Thinking about what I’m going to do to you.”

Somewhere along the way, you’d finally managed to find your words. “What are you gonna do to me, Daddy?”

Bill smiled at that, another wily smile. “I’m going to fuck you. Make sure you never forget who you belong to. I’m going to fucking own you.”

“P-please,” the softest of whimpers left you. 

Bill lifted your own shirt from your body, tossing it somewhere unbeknownst. He shoved your legs apart in order to position himself there, though an idea struck him, and he paused for a moment, reaching for his pants. He pulled the belt from the loops, sliding his fingers across it before looking at you. 

“Arms over your head.”

You obeyed instantly, lifting your arms. Bill grabbed them, carefully wrapping his belt around your wrists and then tying your hands to the headboard. “There,” he hummed, “if you’re a good girl, I’ll take the belt off you.”

For him, you’d be the best damn girl there ever was if it meant pleasing him. “Yes sir.”

Bill’s eyes never left yours as his hand swept down the front of his body. You knew he was touching himself when his jaw tensed, a rushed breath coming from his nose. His free hand came up to your face, fingertips dancing across your lips. You parted them for him, allowing him to slip his fingers into your mouth. He watched you eagerly suck on the digit, and he grunted softly. 

“You’d look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he mused. But he wasn’t in the mood to fuck your mouth this time around. Didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the fact that he did love how you looked with a part of him shoved into your mouth, though.

You gasped softly when you felt him against you, hardness sliding through your soft, wet folds, barely brushing over your clit. You rocked your hips, hoping he’d get things moving already. But he wasn’t finished with you yet. “Who do you belong to, sweet girl? Say it.”

“You.”

“Say it again. Who’s going to fuck you into the mattress?”

“You. Please, I-I just want you inside me. I’m so wet for you.”

“I know, I can feel it. You’re getting wetter by the minute.”

You were quickly growing fed up, especially when he kept brushing over your clit. “Please stop teasing me, Daddy. I need you.”

A wicked glimmer illuminated his eyes before he let his hand rest against your throat. “I’m going to fill you right up, darling. You aren’t going to be able to move when I’m finished.”

“Fuck. I don’t care, just do it already.”

“Is that how we ask for things?”

At that point, you were frustrated. For someone that had spoken of needing to fuck you, he was certainly taking his sweet time. You looked up at him, jaw clenching. “I need you, want you to fuck me into the mattress like the bad girl I am. I can’t take it anymore, I ne-need your cock inside me already. Please, i beg you.”

And suddenly, he was pushing into you, bottoming out and leaving you speechless. For a moment, he didn’t move. He ducked his head down to wrap his lips around a hard nipple, sucking softly, listening to the way you purred like a kitten. Oh, how he was going to wreck you. 

Wordlessly, he placed his hands on either side of you, looking into your face as he began to fuck you. Slow, hard thrusts, jarring your body with each one. The feeling of him filling you whole was unlike any other, pure ecstasy. You tugged at the belt holding your arms in place, chest jutting out against him. 

“So fucking tight for me,” he gritted out, pace quickening, hips now snapping against your roughly. You were practically howling beneath him, head falling back against the pillow as he ruined you. 

“I love when you’re inside me,” you squeaked.

His pace became brutal, almost painful, fucking you so hard you saw stars, all coherent thought leaving your mind. You let him ravish you, running you right into the mattress. You were his, his to use, his to do as he pleased with, his doll. 

“Daddy, please,” tumbled past your lips. You didn’t know what you were asking for. Just more. More, more, more.

“Please what? Please Daddy, fuck me harder? Please use me right up?”

Tears were springing to your eyes as you looked up at him, unable to do anything else but keen and gasp and moan. He reached back to shove your legs higher, giving him a better range of motion. This allowed him to hit all those delicious spots inside of you, and it had your thighs shaking, your heart pounding, your eyes rolling back. 

Bill could feel your muscles tighten and shudder around him, and he couldn’t hold back the groans that rumbled within his chest. His body was running hot, skin burning, cock throbbing. This was just what he’d needed. 

“You’re so wet, darling. Shit, I can feel you gushing all over me. You love this, don’t you? Love me fucking you raw.”

“Yes! I love it, fucking hell,” You cried out, hands jerking at your restraint, head lifting from the pillows. The look on your face was killing him. With a grunt, he wrapped both of his hands around your throat, and you couldn’t look away. 

“Fuck. Take it, take it all.” 

He applied a delicious amount of pressure, and at that point, your arms were beginning to burn with fire, slightly taking away from your pleasure. “B-Bill,” you breathed, “the belt.”

Without a word, he reached up and undid it, tossing it aside swiftly. You let your arms fall, relieved that they were free. It gave you the opportunity to grab onto him, hold him tight as he fucked you mercilessly. 

He brought a hand down between your legs, fingers flattening against your clit, rubbing you hard and fast, sending you reeling. “You’re going to fucking come for me,” he growled, “all over Daddy’s cock like a good fucking girl.”

You were clawing at him, fingernails surely leaving trails of read in their wake. Yes, oh yes, you were going to come for him. The familiar, tantalizing burn was already blossoming to life in your lower abdomen. You were shaking all over, convulsing beneath him. 

“C-can I come? Please can I come?”

He grunted, hips jutting into you even harder. “Do it,” he hissed, “come for me.”

His thrusts paired with his fingers on your clit was quickly becoming all too much. and as he captured your lips with his own, you were tipping right over the edge. You wailed against his mouth as you succumbed to the mind numbing euphoria, soaking his skin and the sheets below you as your sweet release spilled from you. 

Bill moaned at the feeling of your warmth flooding him, knowing that he would not be far behind. His pace was still relentless, and you could only lay there and take it, the overstimulation making your brain go fuzzy.

You could feel him throb within you, the way his hips stuttered as he grew closer. You whimpered, clutching him for dear life, wanting him to fall apart. “I just want you to fill me with your come,” you whispered in desperation. “I want to feel you for days.”

He could hardly contain himself, fucking you so hard you swore you’d pass out. And with just a few more deep thrusts, he was done for, sent over the edge as he gasped out your name, fact twisting into such beautiful agony. 

“Sweetest fucking pussy,” he sighed against your neck as he finished, leaving soft, damp kisses over your burning skin. When he slipped out of you, you were left with an empty feeling, though you could do nothing but lay sprawled across the mattress, desperately trying to calm down. 

A satiated Bill hovered over you, fingers brushing over the side of your face. “Oh, baby,” he breathed, “was I too rough with you?”

Your chest ached at the tone in his voice, and you shrank into yourself, suddenly feeling very small and needy. “No,” you mustered, “I’m okay.”

His hands reached your shoulders, and he was careful to massage the skin, knowing the muscle beneath was sore from being suspended by his belt. “Tell me what you need,” he said. 

“You. Just you.” 

He nodded silently, moving to slide off the bed. He stretched a hand out to you, gently tugging you to stand with him. The slick of his release smeared against the inside of your thighs as you did so. “Can you walk?” He asked. 

Your legs felt like jelly. “N-no.”

“Alright.” He carefully lifted you into his arms and carried you to the wash room. He doted upon you, taking care of you as he always did when he was particularly rough with you. 

After you’d used the restroom, he cleaned both of you up and tentatively dressed you in some clean pajamas before he pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. “You were so good for me,” he praised you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him, lips ghosting over your forehead. “Daddy’s good little girl.”

You nuzzled up against him as you both sauntered to the kitchen, where your forgotten dinner was. “I love you so much,” you whispered. 

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

You managed to unravel yourself from him, motioning to the dinner table. “I hope you like cold soup, ‘cause that’s what we’re having.”

At that, Bill grinned childishly, taking a seat at the table. “At least the first course was delicious,” he teased.

You only shook your head at his remark, joining him at the table. And this began a sleepy night in, tucked in your warm little home with the one you loved more than anything else on earth.


End file.
